


Aphrodite

by yaboiiiigrass



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 60s AU, Fight me on that, Greaser Spot, Italian boi, Jack Kelly is an adorable ass as always, M/M, Mechanic Race, Racer is a car mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboiiiigrass/pseuds/yaboiiiigrass
Summary: Race loves 2 things; “his” car and beating everyone and anyone at cards. But there’s always room for a third after a third-wheeling gone right...





	Aphrodite

“He’s just so cute with his chocolatey eyes that I wish I could melt in...” Jack drawled on for the 4th time this week. Him and Race had been meeting up a lot lately at Jacobi’s Mechanics to vent about their “boy problems”, but it was mostly just jack talking about how it pretty he thought Davey was while race worked. Race loved his friend, but this little pinning routine was getting tired. 

“Look Jackie, if you love Dave so much than just take ‘im out” he said from under one of the cars he was working on. 

“Race If I ask him out he’ll... wait, that’s not a bad idea! Where would we go though?”

“Well I usually just take a guy out to a diner for shakes, or I take them out to gamble.” He added, sliding out from beneath the car. 

“That’s perfect! It just so happens that Spot Conlon from the Brooklyn boys invited me to play some cards a while back, now would be a good time to take him up on his offer!! It’s a date!” Jack squealed before sprinting out of the garage and off to his gorgeous 1956 Ford Fairlane Convertible 500. It was a gorgeous baby blue color with a pearly sheen, gorgeous silver accents, pristine white leather seats trimmed in black, and races prized possession; a chrome stallion hood ornament. He’d nabbed it off the dealer while gambling the price of the car, which was still too expensive for him by a long shot. Since jack was with him, he offered to buy it as long as they shared the use. But that actually ended up as jack driving the car and race could just fawn over it. It was their baby. Well... race treated it more like a child than a car, he even named it ‘Aphrodite’, which really weirded out the gang. But nobody questioned the car guy. 

“HeyheyheYHEYHEY WAIT UP!! YOURE DRIVING ME HOME REMEMBER!!” Race shouted, wiping the grease off his hands and hopping into the passenger seat. Jack let out a laugh before pulling out of the parking. 

“Ok so you can drop me off so I can change, grab Dave and then pick me up so we can all go” Race added, resting his arm on the door.

“Pshh, you’re not coming race” Jack laughed. Race just rolled his eyes at his friends ridiculous statement.

“Course I’m coming Jackie, you said gambling and date in the same sentence.” Race was almost overeager to go to Brooklyn, and for one reason only. Spot Conlon. Race fell hard for the king of Brooklyn when he first saw him, though he never understood why he did. It’d been 6 months since the strike and Race hadn’t seen any remnants of Brooklyn except seeing them ride by on their manly-man bikes and a view of the bridge that connected the cities. 

“Aight get out racer, I’ll be back in a little over an hour” 

“An hour?”

“You need time to get cleaned up and dressed, and I’ve gotta grab a few things before I pick up davey”

“Hey!! I’ll have you know that I look beautiful!!”

“You’ve got car grease here,” Jack gestured to his hair, “and here, and... oh god whats that?” Races face scrunched up when they pulled into the driveway. 

“Okay fiiiine, good luck lover boy!! Be nice to Aphrodite pleeeaasseee!” Race teased before running towards their tiny ‘house’ near the Hudson River. It seemed near impossible to fit all of those boys in that tiny flat, but they had a system that worked well enough for now. 

Race ran straight up to his room he shared with Katherine and Jojo. Him and Jojo had been friends for ages, but Katherine had only just moved in after her dad kicked her out because of the strike. They would’ve given Katherine her own room, but there wasn’t any room so she was instead put in a room with the gayest guy in Manhattan and a guy frankly didn’t care. He walked right Katherine who was writing something for work and straight to the closet. “You okay Race? You seem a bit stressed” She asked, putting down her papers. 

“Yea no shit Kat, I’ve got a date tonight... kinda, so I need to look hot” he said, digging aimlessly through rows of hangers. 

“Well if you’re going on a date, I’d recommend this,” she grabbed a pair of blue oxfords and placed them on the bed, “With maybe these and those, and this shirt.” She placed a pair of white socks, distressed blue jeans, and a white collared shirt. Race gave Katherine a sly grin before changing quickly. “Also take that grease of your face!!” She shouted through the bathroom door. Race gave a dry laugh before coming out and giving her a witty runway walk to show off the outfit. 

“You look adorable, Race. And I’ve got the perfect finishing touches!” She handed him a worn leather jacket and a box of Coronas. He just smiled like an idiot before wrapping her into a tight hug. “Oh my god I look almost as pretty as Aphrodite!!” 

“Oh my god race enough about your car! Unless you were talking about the goddess, then you’re totally right!” Katherine teased, smacking his arm semi-lightly. 

“All jokes aside, you’re the best Kat, now can you please do my hair? I’ve got like 30 minutes, there’s grease in my hair and I don’t want to make Jackie late.”

She laughed a bit before sitting him down on the edge of the bed while she grabbed a few things. Races head was spinning with anxiety, what if he lost all his money, that would be new... but what if spot didn’t remember him, that would just be a whole shit show and very embarrassing. just imagine the look on his face when... 

“Hey... it’ll be fine, now cmere” Katherine made him turn around so she could start working on his hair. She always seemed to know when he was being hard on himself, which always proved how amazing of a friend she was. They spent the next little while talking about everything under the sun, Katherine’s new job, Race’s sort of date, etc. When she finally finished with his hair, he sat up and walked over to the nearest mirror. 

“Aww Kat, I love it” Race cooed sarcastically, hovering his hands over it, careful not to ruin her beautiful handiwork. Katherine laughed before heading downtown to answer the door. 

“Ey Racer, get down here so we can leave!!” Jack shouted up the stairs, causing race to sprint down the steps to meet him. 

“How do I look?” Race flirted, giving Jack a small twirl. 

“You look fine, thanks for babysitting Katherine!” Jack teased before forcing race out the door and towards the car. Race blew her a quick kiss before hopping in his car. 

“Heya Dave, I’m surprised you actually agreed to this little shindig. You don’t quite seem the type to gamble” He pestered, adjusting his jacket from the backseat. Davey gave him a dry laugh before responding. 

“Well I actually don’t,” Jack began to panic internally with that statement, “but I find it quite fun to watch aaaand free food.” Race gave a cackle, patting his shoulder throughout his tantrum. 

“Smart guys got his priorities straight, hm Jackie?” Jack just nodded, trying to hide his blush but inevitably failing. Race and Davey just laughed. 

“So Race, why are you dressed so fancy?” Davey pestered.

“Yea I’m a little lost, you had Katherine help you get ready. You only ask for help when you’ve got a date... wait, are you and Dave screwing behind my back or something??” Jack said, holding back laughter. Race laughed dryly, mumbling something about never ruining the seats before retreating to his thoughts for the majority of the ride to Brooklyn... which was almost an hour with no traffic. He was surprisingly nervous about seeing the Brooklyn boys again. So much so, that it was starting to worry Davey and Jack. Jack was almost tempted to reschedule the date so he could watch Race, but he also really wanted this date to happen so he’d figure out what was wrong with Race later. 

“We’re here boys, get out” the trio climbed out of jacks car as he locked it, putting his keys in his jacket pocket. Race took a deep breath and gave his car a kiss before following behind jack and Davey. The ‘rendezvous point’ was the old docks near the Brooklyn bridge, which added to the sketchy factor. Race pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, lighting it as they walked onto the docks. The cigar calmed him down significantly, slowing his uneven heart rate to a more regular one. Just the feeling of one between his teeth was enough to take him out of a moderate nervous breakdown... usually. Race didn’t know why he was so nervous, this wasn’t even his date. He was going to gamble with jack and davey in Brooklyn, nothing more and nothing less. His adrenaline was going through the roof for no reason and it was kind of pissing him off and-“Racer? Race? Racetrack? RACETRACK HIGGINS!!?” 

“Hm?” Race looked down at Jack, who was trying to get his attention for some reason. 

“They’re starting a game of poker near the back, you coming?” Race gave him a curt nod before trailing behind him and Davey. “By the way, we need to set up some ground rules.”

“Jackie, I’m not a kid. It’s just poker.”

“I know, but I also dont want you to get mugged or murdered so, ground rules. Don’t be cocky and obnoxious, a little is okay but don’t be rude. Don’t cheat,” race scoffed at that, “and play nice. Play them like a rookie. I don’t want you getting in any trouble, Okay?” Race nodded once again as they reached the back table. He counted four other guys, not counting one who seemed to be the dealer, and a handful of bystanders just watching. Race sat down at the table, jack in the chair to his left and davey was standing behind him. Once everyone was settled, the round began. Race played poker better than the Manhattan newsies, so he felt his chances of making a profit were pretty good, except for one thing. Jacks idiotic rules. So he put on his poker face and played the game as usual. As hands were coming and going, race still did as jack said. He played like a rookie, but didn’t lose. Jack wasn’t winning either so he felt good enough. Race was beginning to get bored of sticking near the middle, where everything was extremely uneventful. His cigar sat lazily between his lips, he even had began to try and flirt with the other players, which got him nowhere. Davey was getting kind of worried, “Jack, is race okay? He just looks so... dead inside.”

“He’s fine Dave, he just doesn’t really enjoy playing nice. We both know he’d rather just win everyone’s money and leave.” Davey nodded, letting jack resume to playing. 

They were about 3 rounds in when jack finally got a lucky hand. When Race looked over to jack, he saw a familiar expression. He knew jack got dealt well and had to do something about it. Jack threw a few chips in the pot, raising the bet a bit. He’d gotten amazing cards almost every round and was finally ready to put them to good use instead of folding like usual. “I’m gonna call it” he said calmly. 

“You sure about that, Racer?” Jack pestered cockily, even getting an unsure look from davey. 

“Oh I’m quite sure, Jackie Boy” Race retorted, throwing in his share of chips. As the bets continued, nobody tried to call jack or race, leading them to a face off. The crowd began to thicken slightly as Jack went to lay out his cards.

“Flush. You’d better tap out while you can, you Italian bastard” Jack teased loudly, earning a few oooh’s from some of the bystanders. Everyone knew that race was screwed, except for Race. 

“Straight Flush, Jackie Boy” Race laid his cards out elegantly for the table to see. Jack just sat in shock for a moment before glaring up at race. He just shrugged, “I’m sick of playing rookie.” 

Jack facepalmed onto the table, before groaning loudly. It was his secret way of telling everyone that they were fucked. Davey rubbed his shoulder tenderly, which made jacks face flare up like a tomato. Race let out a small snigger, which made jacks glare at him intensify. And with that, races wrath had been unleashed. He just kept winning round after round, and that meant jack just kept losing. 

“Haha, you had quite the run cowboy, but you just fucked yourself bad. And it wasn’t even mouth fucking you!!” Said one of the Brooklyn boys, causing both jack and davey to go even redder in the face. With that, Race just about died of laughter, turning to find whoever just outed his friends in the best way possible. After giving up on scanning the crowd, he looked to his left to see jack and davey talking to one of the Brooklyn newsies. He was short and muscular, with a thin gap in his teeth that was oddly familiar. The newsie looked so familiar it was starting to get him angry until he remembered something, only one person has ever called davey ‘mouth’ or ‘walking mouth’. It was Spot Conlon.

“Spot Conlon, how ya doin?” Jack stood up to shake his hand. 

“Good, good. I see you brought mouth, did you two finally get together?” Race gave a loud snigger at his comment. 

“Believe me, the worlds been trying to get them together since that damn strike but they’re just too blind to see what’s been dangling right in front of their idiotic faces” Spots catlike smirk grew a bit before turning his attention to Race. 

“Higgins, right?” He added calmly, cocking his head a bit. Race gulped before resuming to his cocky manner. 

“Mhmm, but I’ll let ya call me whatever you want if ya spot me a cigar or two” race purred before turning back to collect his winnings. He hoped that no one had noticed his face growing redder, but at this point he could care less about opinions, he had some ass to kick. The game resumed as normal, jack even stealing races jacket for some unknown reason. Out of the corner he noticed jack trying to get davey to play for himz, which ended in both of them walking off. 

“Waaaaiiittt jack you’re my ride home!And you’ve got my jaCKET! BE GENTLE WITH APHRODITE!!! SHE IS A BLESSING TO THIS WORLD AND YOU MUST BE CAREFUL WITH HER!!!” Race cried obnoxiously as the pair walked away, groaning in frustration when they ignored him.

“Aphrodite?”

“She’s my car you ass, don’t question it” 

“Okay... anyways, I can get you a ride if you need one ya know” Spot added gruffly before sitting down in jacks abandoned seat next to race, folding his hands in front of his face. 

“Wow, the king himself Spot Conlon is offering little me a ride? What’re the odds of that, eh” Race teased, picking up his cards from the table before taking a quick peek and placing them back on the table with a wicked smile on his face. He placed his hands in his lap too, practically mirroring spot. 

“Well if you’re gonna be an ass about it then I guess I shouldn’t have asked” groaned spot, dropping one of his hands from his face, tapping against the table.   
“Why are you so damn cocky?”

“Because.”

“That is the most juvenile response you could’ve come up with.”  
“Mhm”

“You’re insufferable”

“Insufferably hot”

“Touché” Spot mumbled, barely audible to anyone but race. Races head whipped around quickly with that with a smirk on his face. 

“Why thank you, you’re not bad yourself Conlon” he mocked patting spots cheek before letting it drop onto the table near spots. 

“Shut up and play your game so I can get you the hell out of here” Spot growled hotly, resuming the tapping on the table. Race gave a fake huff as he turned back to the game. And the funny thing was, race just kept winning. Hand after hand, game after game, raking in an amount of chips similar to professionals. Spot was impressed; practically star struck, though he’d never admit it. 

“Aaaaaaand I win again boys!” Race announced, smiling widely as he reached over and squeezed Spots hand excitedly. Spot looked over at race with a vibrant blush growing on his face, his body tensing up under races touch. Race immediately realized what he did and let go of Spots hand awkwardly and stood up from the table.

“I think I’ll take that ride now.” Race smiled tensely, walking over to the dealer to collect what he’d won over time. Spot nodded, sending away the suspicious glares from his boys. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.” And with that, spot began to lead race away from the docks and towards an abandoned parking lot. Race trailed a few feet behind, carefully attempting to light another cigar. The lot was lined with burly motorbikes covered in intricate detailing, to the point where race almost squealed. 

“Oh my god they’re gorgeous! Can I touch one?” Race practically begged, barely dropping his cigar in the process. 

Spot did everything in his power to retain his stoic appearance but eventually gave into races pleas. “Fine.. but be careful”

Race jumped up and down like a child which earned him some concerned looks from spot. He tried to calm down and resort to just rocking on the balls of his feet but it didn’t take long for him to break and sprint towards the bikes. 

“Oh god damnit just look at the rims on this one!!” Race cried reaching his hand out gingerly but still not touching, not wanting to smudge the perfectly polished metal. As the pair walked down the rows of bikes, race getting more and more excitable, which made it harder and harder for spot to maintain his nofunnybuisness exterior. By the time they reached the last bike there were actual tears in his eyes, his hands so desperate to feel how perfect the paint job was and to pick apart behind every inch of that bike. 

“That ones actually mine” spot said matter of factly, smirking a bit as race’s jaw dropped to the floor. Spot was almost flattered at races expression, until he actually started crying, then he got worried. “Woooooah... what the fuck race? It’s a bike, not some funeral.”

Race nodded, wiping his eyes dramatically. “It’s just so pretty” he choked out, holding his hands over his mouth before stepping forward to look better at the bike. “Tell me everything about her. Or him. I dunno, whatever you’re into is cool with me?” Race rambled on, reaching out to touch the seat. 

“Well I don’t really know much. It was the last guys bike... but he died so now it’s mine?” Spot shrugged. Races jaw just dropped once again, this time for a different reason. 

“WHAT!!! YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT IT?? DID YOU EVEN NAME IT!?” He shouted hotly. 

“WHY WOULD YOU NAME A BIKE!! ITS A BIKE!!” 

“WELL I NAMED ME AND JACKS CAR BECAUSE I LOVE IT!! PEOPLE NAME THINGS BECAUSE THEY LOVE THEM!!!” 

“YEA WELL ITS NOT LIKE ITS A CHILD OR A BOYFRIEND, ITS A BIKE!!”

“Ohhh so you’re gay, niiiiiiice!” Race purred, sitting down on the seat to get a better look. “Anywho, I’ve got a friend who can tell you all about him.”

“I’m good, thanks. Let’s get going now, shall we?” Spot shooed race out of the seat so he could sit. Race pouted sarcastically before stepping aside. He’d fallen in love with the bike quickly, just like he did with spot. Weird. 

“Race? You okay, you look kinda dead inside” Spot said, shaking him out of his funk. “Yea, I’m great. Let’s just go before it gets overly dark.”

Spot nodded, moving closer to the handles and motioning for race to sit down. Race took his offer hesitantly, sitting down to one side before swinging his other leg around the back of the bike to straddle it. He felt kind of awkward sitting so close to spot, so he tried to put as much room in between them... which wasn’t even an inch of room or he’d fall off. 

“You may want to hold on” spot added, starting the engine and putting the bike in reverse. Race quickly looped his arms around spots waist tightly as they pulled out of the lot. As they began the somewhat long ride back to Manhattan, the sun finished setting and the air began to chill. Every once in a while, race would move an arm from Spots waist to take a long drag of his cigar in attempt to calm down. That didn’t help at all. There were so many things going through his mind that he didn’t even know what he was thinking. One thing became clear though, he was getting cold. Spot felt race begin to shiver behind him in the cold air, and its not like the wind was making it any warmer. Race usually kept blankets under the seats of his car for midnight drives around the city, but this was a motorcycle, and there was no room for blankets. And even if there was, they’d fly away in the strong wind. Spot carefully pulled to the side of the road, standing up from the bike and taking his heavy leather jacket and gently throwing it at race. 

“Why are you giving me this?” Race asked, cocking his head slightly. 

“Because you keep shivering against my back and it’s annoying” spot huffed, sitting back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. Race smiled at him while putting the jacket on. It was slightly big, but very warm which felt great in the cold night air. His arms resumed their resting place around Spots waist, this time holding on a bit tighter. Where before his mind was racing a mile a minute, he felt a strange wave of comfort wash over him. 

Spots calm had partially jumped out the window at this point. There was a guy- a cute one at that- practically on his back, while they rode all the way to Manhattan. It was almost surreal to him that the loud, cocky, cigar-smoking, car-loving boy from the strike almost 6 months ago was here. Of course he was intrigued by him when they first ‘met’, but he never expected to end up this attached. But now he was right next to him. It wasn’t some twisted dream he was having, it was real life and it felt amazing. 

Races arm shifted from spots waist, moving to take the final drag of his cigar before throwing it behind him. Instead of resuming his arm to its original resting place, he shifted closer to spot and wrapped his arm across his body, his hand gripping the opposite shoulder. His head rested near the crook of Spots neck, his nose gently brushing against his neck. And that’s how they stayed for the majority of the ride back to Manhattan, or what was left of it. Occasionally spot would crane his neck to look at the mop of curly blonde hair resting on his shoulder, or Race would teasingly poke at Spots bicep in hopes to get a reaction out of him. Spot only chuckled before whacking race with his shoulder, then he resumed his spot at Spots shoulder. 

Finally after a few minutes of blissful silence, they arrived at the small house that was shared by 90% of the Manhattan guys. And even then, the very few who didn’t live with the rest slept over more often than they should. Race let out an audible groan, exhaustion slurring his words slightly when he spoke.

“I just got comfy” he mumbled into Spots neck, tightening his grip slightly. Spot just laughed, turning off the engine and trying to shrug race off. “Git off, I’ve gotta go yell at jack for a bit for making me drive you home”. 

“Aw cmon, you know you enjoyed it” race teased. 

“I cant say” Race whined a bit before untangling himself from spot and walking up to the front door. He quickly swiped his key out of his back pocket and unlocked the door as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake whoever was sleeping on the couch. This time around, Albert and Elmer were practically laying on each other in front of the tv. Race sniggered, he’d give them shit in the morning though. 

“Cmon! And quiet, Al and El are out on the couch and I don’t wanna wake them up” race whispered at spot, motioning him inside and up the stairs to jacks room. He did his best to guide them without hurting himself, which failed quickly. He stubbed his toe at least 3 times before making it to jacks room. There was a bit of light seeping through the crack under the door, and that meant jack was awake. He was hoping to catch something juicy, like a makeout session or a really intimate conversation. Race quickly burst through the door, spot following close behind only to find jack drawing on his bed. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!!” He groaned into his hands, ignoring jacks undignified shriek. 

“What the shit racer!! Can’t you see I’m busy here!” Jack gestured to his sketchpad and then to the unknown mass next to him. Race gave a dramatic gasp as it clicked in his mind, jack was drawing davey in his sleep. He squealed happily at the pair finally getting together. 

“Spot needs to talk to you, I’ll be on the balcony” He laughed, exiting the room quickly. The balcony was barren in the dim moonlight, only the light of a cigar to keep him company. He could hear distant bickering coming from jacks room, only god knows what they were arguing about. Instead, he focused his thoughts on his surroundings. The chirp of crickets, the distant cry of Times Square, the crisp air absorbing the smell of burning tobacco. 

“Race? Whatcha doin out here all alone?” Spot steeped out on the cool balcony, resting his arms on the railing bordering it. 

“Thinking.”

“Hm. Question: why on earth would you name your car Aphrodite?”

“You want the truth or the honest story?”

“What’s the difference?” Race pulled the cigar from his lips, a sarcastic look of dumbfoundment. 

“I tell everyone I named her that cuz I’ve had sex so many times in that car, and while that’s partially true, I did it for a whole different reason.” Race leaned against the railing, his shoulder brushing against Spots. Spot fought the urge to grab Races hand, instead folding them over the edge of the rail. 

“Ya see, my family moved here from Rome roughly 9 years ago with nothing but a few suitcases, $200 American and a dream. My mother would tell me and my sisters about old Roman mythology, and that’s where I learned about the Roman and Greek gods. I’d always been so invested in those stories, the goddess of love fascinating me the most.” Races eyes were fixed on his hands, nervously wringing them as he spoke. He cleared his throat before resuming his story. “3 years later, my dad loses his job and our family is forced to move back to Italy to get back on their feet. But I’d grown attached to this hellhole I call home so I chose to stay behind. One less ticket to pay for I guess? So I got a job as a mechanics apprentice, and moved in with jack at 13. So when jack bought that car, I thought back to my roots. Her real names Maria; Dea dell'amore or Maria; Goddess of Love. After my mother. Aphrodite was simply a coverup.” Race gave a sad smile, training his gaze on the distant city skyline. 

Spot just stared at him with a look of pure astonishment. He was shocked at how much Race was willing to reveal after spending only a few hours with him. “I- I didn’t know..”

Race only scoffed at his comment, meeting Spots gaze only momentarily. “Yea well no shit, that’s probably because I don’t go screaming to the world that I’m a broke illegal immigrant. Now in exchange for my tragic backstory, tell me about Spot Conlon. What should I know about him?”

“Heh, well I guess you’ve already figured that I’m in charge of the entirety of the Brooklyn Boys. And let’s just say that it’s not normal for just any 14 year old to be running the biggest and meanest group in all of New York. Well, the last guy in charge was my brother. And he got killed in a biking accident, some drunken bastard t-boned his bike. Killed him on impact. Therefore, I inherited the joint until further notice. I think we’re still on further notice?” He gave a shallow laugh, training his gaze to his hands and resisting every urge to kiss Race till his lips hurt. “Guess we both have our own sob story?”

“Yea... I guess we do. We should probably head inside befo-“ Race was quickly cut off by a pair of lips crashing against his. His eyes widened in shock before slipping shut and embracing the kiss. Spot moved his arms to races waist, while race rested his around Spots neck, his hands slowly winding themselves in spots hair. After a few moments, Spot pulled back with a smirk on his face. “Before what?”

Race was too surprised to even speak, but instead watched as spot walked off the balcony with that devilish grin on his face. His brain was foggy with millions of emotions that he couldn’t even comprehend. He quickly snapped out of his faze, racing down the steps as spot walked out the front door. “Wait!! Meet me at Jacobi’s. 4pm.” He cried out to him, receiving only a wave for his troubles. 

Spot mounted his bike with the biggest smile on his face, revving the engine. “JACK, JOJO, AL!!! WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK JUST HAPPENED!!” Was all he heard before riding away.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this sucks but please leave Kudos and Comment!!


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